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Since getting pregnant, Ricky has been living in a combination of satin pajama pants, kimonos from Free People, and Gyuvin’s heavily scented band tees. He floats around the house in lace and knit and tassels, weaving in and out of the rooms of their home chasing after their four year old son, Yujin.
They have a routine down: breakfast around nine after Gyuvin leaves for the city, snack at noon, lunch before three, and dinner at six just in time for the alpha to come home. Nap time happens when it happens, usually when Yujin is nodding off after four peanut butter crackers in his high seat.
They play in the living room and in his bedroom and on Ricky’s bed. Yujin loves playing Supermarket with Ricky as the customer with a heavy basket of play food. The baby giggles every time the scanner beeps when matched up to a fake barcode and he packs up the omega’s purchases in a farmers market tote bag. They also play Jewelry Store with Ricky’s collection of Versace and Vivienne Westwood accessories, and Yujin gives Ricky a makeover with his Sephora packages.
They go outside when the weather is nice and collect pinecones and acorns and rusty red leaves on walks. Ricky gives Yujin a page of cardboard with a sticky side and tells him to find everything green. The toddler adds blades of freshly plucked grass and a Sprite bottle cap, and someone’s abandoned grasshopper toy. Ricky displays his son’s creation on the fridge until the greenery rots and they do it all over again the next day.
Bath time is a must after a long day, and Yujin is squeaky clean when he’s tucked into bed. He sleeps alone now and they’re experimenting with a real mattress instead of a child bed. It’s king sized and on the floor without a frame since they’re worried about him rolling off in the middle of the night. With the eleven pillows he has piled up on there, it’s hard to but it still poses a threat for his careful parents. Half a storybook is all it takes for their little child to fall asleep, and after eight it’s time to clean up and prepare for life’s inevitable restart.
Ricky knew being a parent wasn’t going to be an easy breezy affair. He could tell by Hao’s sleepy eyes and his sugar coated complaints of never having any time for himself that his life would be changed forever after having Yujin. He still wanted it, longed for it. He never thought he would make a decent parent, but he still wanted to try. It was calling to him. Gyuvin had told him once that he was a perfect wife, the loveliest partner, and would make an even better mother. After trying for a single week, they were blessed with positive results.
Yujin was born in the spring and bloomed like the wild flowers in their front yard. Ricky, not wanting his spring child to live a life without color, dresses him up as vibrantly as he can. Yujin often wears polka dots and stripes, wears superhero costumes and princess dresses, looks like a pack of crayons went into a blender one day and then a distinguished gentleman in a daddy look-a-like outfit the next. They go through a big load of laundry each week because of constant dress-up changes, but Ricky loves that Yujin is gaining his own fashion sense. They spend about thirty minutes just going through his closet each day and then they do the same for Ricky, letting Yujin pick out his combo when they don’t plan on clowning around at Whole Foods or the park. On occasion, Ricky wears flouncy skirts when things feel a little cramped in the belly and thigh area and Yujin has fun hiding underneath them so it looks like the omega is a four-legged gazelle.
When Gyuvin walks through the door after a lengthy day in the studio, it’s not surprising to see Ricky toddling through the living room picking up the pieces of their time without him. He’s not quiet enough for the omega to not notice him, but Gyuvin soon realizes that his wife is staring off into space next to a pile of alphabet letters. He creeps closer and Gyuvin surprises him with a back hug and a sloppy kiss to the neck as Ricky unfreezes from his crouched position and reaches forward to pick up a wooden block from when he and Yujin played Monster Attack before bed. There are colored shapes all over the floor and they have to step around them to get to the couch.
Gyuvin chuckles when he sees the toy tiara resting in Ricky’s blonde locks and he adjusts it so it lays flat and secure. When he touches his hair, Ricky feels warm and when Gyuvin kisses him he hums between their connected lips, drawing his hands behind his husband’s neck. He still looks dazed but this time it’s because of the heat radiating between their two bodies.
“I told you to leave the closing shift to me,” Gyuvin complains before deepening the kiss. He thumbs along the softness of Ricky’s chin to get him to part his lips, sneaking his tongue inside of his hot mouth.
Pheromones are a crazy thing and Ricky seems to be drenched in them, basically begging for Gyuvin’s love and care. “I was getting a head start,” the omega whispers, already drunk off the attention.
“Whatever,” Gyuvin says before pecking his temple. He leaves his lips there, speaking into him. “You just wanted to show me up for Parent of the Year.”
“Parent of the Century, more like,” Ricky replies with a saucy grin.
The alpha pulls back to check his face again. Ricky wonders why Gyuvin looks at him like that, like he’s checking on him. He must think he’s sly or that Ricky isn’t paying attention, but Gyuvin sinks into another dopey smile and all suspicions fly away.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to be forced to do something real bad,” Gyuvin warns, dipping his fingers between his wife’s thighs. He’s always playful after work but Ricky is already tired from his day chasing their puppy around and he yawns in his face dramatically.
The omega keeps the eye contact going up until Gyuvin’s fingers gets to his heated core and he blinks at him. “Big Bad Wolf kind of bad?”
“Yeah,” Gyuvin replies breathily, “yeah, that.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” It’s a loose test, of course. They like playing a tug-of-war game that consists of Ricky not wanting to do something and Gyuvin complying and then being rewarded for it. At the base of it, Ricky just likes knowing that his husband will stop when he’s told stop, and Gyuvin likes showing him that he’s consistent with his vows of doing whatever it takes to make his wife happy.
But Gyuvin contemplates it, or pretends to. His big eyes roam from Ricky’s full, kiss-red lips to the unmarked flesh around his neck before he smiles, holding a secret between his teeth. “Yeah, I wouldn’t dare,” he agrees.
He’s given an even better kiss than before and a scalp rub. Before taking on the chore of disinfecting the toys, Gyuvin gets up to invade the fridge. He grabs a sparkling water, strawberry flavored, and pours it straight into a wine glass. They would usually unwind with a cup of the real stuff but with Ricky’s belly being so round they’ve downgraded to the safer option.
Gyuvin hands it to his wife and Ricky takes it by the stem, taking a long swig with his eyes on his husband. “I wish you were here today,” he says lightly. “Baobao wouldn’t leave the twins alone. He’s ready to be a big brother.”
“Me and him both,” Gyuvin says with a wistful smile. He rips a piece of cloth from the cleaning tube and starts working it over their toddler’s Barbies and Bluey figures. He’s smiling and Ricky can’t stop watching him. “We’re going to be so busy when they get here,” he estimates, “we’ll be a full house.”
They will be. Gyuvin will be a dad of three. Ricky is making him a dad of three. He presses his hand over his belly, suddenly conscious of the two babies baking away inside of him, sucking him dry of calcium and whatever else the doctor said. For some reason, he feels stronger. Or maybe he’s telling himself he needs to be stronger to be able to handle their growing family. Either way, he feels pride swell up inside of him as he sinks into the cushions.
“Did you think about what I proposed?” Gyuvin raises his eyebrow when Ricky turns away and starts to chug his drink down his skinny throat. “Honey. Did you forget?”
“I didn’t forget,” Ricky says defensively. He melts into a puddle of guilt when Gyuvin stares at him and spanks the butt of a stuffed lion, basically telling him what’s to come. “I even asked Hao.”
Gyuvin runs another wet wipe over the keys of the miniature piano and then over the matching Yujin-sized bench. “And what did he say?”
“He said he can’t go,” Ricky says with a small sigh. “Haneul was casted as a turkey in the Thanksgiving play and they’re hand making the costume at a PTA thing tomorrow. They’re really excited about it.”
His husband makes a sour face. “Schools are still doing plays like that? For Thanksgiving?”
“Apparently there’s a vegan agenda and the Haneul Turkey sets all the other turkeys free from a mill. They encourage eating pasture-raised chickens or Tofurky.”
“Huh,” Gyuvin says thoughtfully.
He works over the whiteboard easel to clear off what looks like tally marks and hieroglyphics. They’re having Yujin practice writing his name and Ricky’s. According to Mrs. Dooly, their son’s preschool teacher, when asked what his mother’s name is, Yujin confidently says Honey Kim. Why, you ask? Because Gyuvin calls Ricky honey so much that Yujin has been led to believe that was his legal name. They got a kick out of that but got to work real quick with ordering workbooks from Amazon and enough markers and pencils to be buried in them.
Because Gyuvin never forgets, he tosses the napkins in the trash and takes a seat on the coffee table and faces Ricky. “You should go, still. It’ll be nice to have time alone.”
“But I don’t want to be alone,” Ricky says behind the rim of the wine glass. “With the babies it’s even more annoying to go out. I'm getting winded now, Gyuvin. Like, really tired.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you. Once they’re actually here it’ll be even harder for you to find time for yourself.”
“I think I should stay home.”
“I think not.”
“But.”
“But nothing. I need you to get out of the house and breathe some fresh air.” Gyuvin cups around Ricky’s pale cheek and squeezes it. “I know you’re pretty but you’re no wall ornament, Rui.”
Ricky imagines himself dangling from the ceiling like a snow fairy or a tree topper. He doesn’t hate being home so he doesn’t know why Gyuvin is pushing for him to leave. He feels stressed out just thinking about it. People already stare at him with crazy eyes when they see him strolling Yujin around town with his belly poking out. Strangers love pregnant omegas the same way they love kitties. Like he’s something to awe at and touch, or to take home and domesticate and feed until fat and useless. Is Ricky fat and useless? His expression droops. Does his husband think of him as a fat and useless and domesticated cat hybrid?
He prickles when Gyuvin leans in to kiss him again, suddenly upset. Before he can identify his own mood swing, the alpha does. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, the answer is no.”
Ricky rolls his eyes. “I was wondering if you loved me but I guess the answer is no,” he lies, clawing for the man to beg for forgiveness from him.
Gyuvin laughs his deep laugh and Ricky scowls at him. “You’re really sexy when you get all prissy like this.”
The omega tuts. Aside from his husband’s penchant for debating with him, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s just nice to paint Gyuvin as a bad guy when he’s the opposite of other men his age. “Is that why you like fighting with me so much?”
“It’s my joy in life,” the alpha admits, kissing the air annoyingly.
“You’re a horrible husband, you know that?”
“Ha. That’s not what you were saying last night.”
Ricky scoffs. “You’re so full of yourself. Alphas never fail to amaze me.”
Gyuvin makes a big deal out of sighing like this type of banter comes with the territory of swinging around the biggest cock Ricky has ever had the pleasure of being gutted with. The smug bastard. “I know, I know. If I came that many times on a dick I might feel a little embarrassed, too. It’s alright, we’ll get you checked up for your overactive sex drive.”
Ricky sits up and gives the younger man a handful of seconds to get his act together. Gyuvin does nothing of the sort. He, with his puppy-like face, pokes his tongue in and out of the middle of his cheek to simulate a blowjob, paired with some back and forth action with his hand. Ricky takes it back. His husband is exactly like men his age. The omega gives him a pleasant but wry smile as he lifts himself off the couch.
“You’re right. We should stop having sex altogether. It’ll be better for the babies if I stop milking their daddy dry every night,” Ricky replies airily as he walks away with his glass perched between his fingers. His slippers scratch against the ground before he kicks them off to walk up the staircase, his body moving like liquid gold.
Gyuvin doesn’t run after him, but Ricky knows he’s probably still picking his jaw off the floor from losing his Bang-Bang rights. After all, Ricky is still the one that holds all the power in their relationship. He draws the lines and he sets the rules. Gyuvin, unlike typical alphas, is all about servitude. The silly dog hybrid would rather cut off his own hands than go against Ricky. His husband has the ability to command a room, but the omega is the one that commands him. Ricky snickers through his nose as he moves into the hallway and pushes the door to his child’s bedroom open with the side of his hip.
Inside, Yujin is deep in sleep and bathed in pinks and blues coming from his merry-go-round nightlight that moves images around his walls. It’s a nice compliment to all of the drawings Ricky has painted there, telling a story through motion and light. Ricky creeps further into the room and picks up a toy bunny off the floor to add it to Yujin’s kingdom of pillows, propping the animal up like a night guard to watch over the little angel.
When he settles next to the edge of the mattress he smiles at how tightly Yujin is gripping his scarf. The plaid pattern melts perfectly with the pattern of his pillows. He’s got his tiny nose buried in the fabric and his fingers clutched around the care tag. On the day Ricky wore it out to brunch with Hao, Yujin was obsessed with sitting on Ricky’s lap. He would nuzzle his face into his mother’s neck, sniffing his perfume loudly in a very baby-like way. When Hao tried to grab Yujin’s attention he would hide back into the scarf and squeeze himself close to Ricky’s protruding belly, as if wanting to reenter it himself.
Within the week, Yujin will find something new to obsess over, Ricky is sure. Last month he would cry unless he had Ricky’s house slipper. He carried it around like it was a pet, and technically it was for him. They decided not to get a dog until the twins were out and about, so Yujin took it upon himself to settle on the white bunny slipper his mother just bought from a boutique on one of their errands (read: returning and rebuying new clothing from the outdoor mall and running Gyuvin’s card up). Just a couple of weeks ago he was going to sleep with a red envelope with Monopoly money inside it every night.
He’s just like his father. Except Gyuvin tends to search for a titty right before bed. Ricky is sucked empty and swollen when he allows the younger man to get his way, which is more often than not. The only one happier about Yujin transitioning from breast milk to whole milk two years ago was his husband. He stays there for what feels like eternity just watching his little boy breathe in and out. He grows tired and weary with all the affection filling his mouth. He wants to tell Yujin what a gift he is. He wants him to hurry up and understand big concepts so that he will understand Ricky when he says he’s his world, he’s his everything. More than that, he wants to make sure that when the time comes, Ricky actually has the strength to tell him all of it.
Ricky doesn’t leave Yujin until he’s beckoned out by his husband. Gyuvin helps bathe him in the same tub Ricky used to bathe their child. He’s shampooed like a spoiled kitten and gets thick body cream rubbed into his skin. Ricky accuses Gyuvin of wanting to touch him when he’s not supposed to and they both end up wetter than before.
“I don’t know if I can,” Ricky confesses when they’re snuggled in bed.
Gyuvin chuckles against the skin of his shoulder. He squishes his nose into the swoop of Ricky’s neck to breathe the omega’s body lotion off him. “That’s what you said when you were about to give birth. Then you slipped Yujin out like he was on a waterslide.”
Ricky snorts but he stares at the wall without any expression. “That was all okra water.”
“No, that was all you, Ricky.” His husband leaves a warm kiss over his arm and Ricky feels like he’s on pins and needles. “It’s always been all you. You’re never going to be ready but I’m telling you that once you get there, you’ll be glad you went.”
Ricky forgets how to talk. His tongue feels dry and he grows quiet in his thoughts before Gyuvin takes him by the shoulders and gives him a tiny shake before turning him over in bed. He doesn’t want to tell his husband that he’s afraid of what his role is outside of the home. It never occurred to him how much of himself he attributes to being a mother now, or a wife. They call him Yujin’s mother at church during Easter and Trunk-or-Treat events. When visiting Gyuvin in the city, Ricky tells the new staff he’s his wife before introducing himself by his name. At dinner reservations, older ladies call him a beautiful mom and not a beautiful person.
If he were to leave the house without any attachments, what would he be seen as? Without his husband lacing their fingers together and without Yujin hanging on his hip, he’d be alone and up for interpretation. He could be anything, really. He’d revert back to what he was before it all, and the thought of that scares him. He’d be back to what he was in his old flat: a dreamer, someone that did more dreaming than living. More seeing than feeling, more feeling than doing. Someone floating into premonitions without anything to ground himself on.
“I’m not saying you’re lost, but I do want you to find yourself again. Outside of being Yujin’s mom, outside of the chores and all the work you do here.” Gyuvin presses their foreheads together. Ricky likes to imagine that their clairvoyant traits double up in intensity when they’re this close. He wishes he could read Gyuvin’s mind the same way Gyuvin seems to read his.
Gyuvin’s always been like this, actually. He’s the one that pushed Ricky to date and to confront his feelings. He was the one pushing into Ricky’s life in general. Gyuvin encouraged the omega to put his talent with language into action with storybooks, and to channel his dormant energy into painting and drawing. After graduating with his master’s, Ricky was so stressed and pulled tight about his career options and dwindling job prospects that he nearly went into cardiac arrest. Gyuvin helped him out of his rut little by little, and it feels like he’s leading him out of another hole Ricky didn’t even realize he was neck-deep in.
Sensing him tense up, Gyuvin taps his hand over his wife’s rear like he’s the baby now. Softly, ever so softly, Gyuvin hums, “Relax, honey. I’ve got you.”
After much deliberation, he’s seated at a table facing the only window in Thailicious, as phoned in by Gyuvin for his reservation. Gyuvin did not want Ricky to run into any problems and he did the groundwork of securing his Uber and seeing him off, holding Yujin on top of his shoulders as both of them waved enthusiastically during his departure. With the car bouncing off the rubble of their rocky road, Ricky felt his throat close and tighten painfully as he watched his two boys get smaller and smaller the further he drove away. It’s been months since he’s been away from either of them and he already misses the two, finding the car unsettling and empty.
He is not an emotional person. He is a person with a lot of emotions.
Ricky reads out his order as rehearsed on the ride there. He and Gyuvin had Yelped the family-run restaurant before sleeping, looking over the menu like they would be graded on the endless mountain of dishes the next morning. He reads it off the notes app in his phone, smiling politely after asking for no spice, very mild, pretty please. When the middle aged lady looks at his belly, she smiles back at him like she’s keeping his secret safe. With her gone, the hardest part is done and he looks to the side of him to see a couple on a first date. He thinks back to him and Gyuvin eating oysters and losing track of time years before. He wonders if they looked like that — a little clumsy, a lot endearing.
He does more people watching to calm his heart. A mom and a daughter pass by, then a group of college students with micro skirts trample along the sidewalk, and then a runner fights the rain and the puddles after them a few moments later. It’s weird being out by himself. Ricky feels like everyone is watching him and wondering why he’s alone, trying to sniff out his story with their eyes. He almost regrets coming at all and he thinks about how he’s going to go home and tell his husband that he had a horrible time, that it was a waste and did more harm than good. He wants to fall into Gyuvin’s arms and make him feel bad for encouraging him to spend time away from the house when all he wants to do is be in it. That is, until his Thai tea comes out. The ice in it clicks against the tall glass when he stirs the liquid with a straw and the two colors mix together into a decadent peachy orange.
Ricky has been violently nauseous the past week, something to do with being crazy pregnant and hormonal and teetering on the edge of a controlled meltdown at the slightest inconvenience. When his Amazon package was left in their mailbox instead of on the front porch, he locked himself in the bathroom and cried to his husband on the phone for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds. He closes his eyes at the memory, wondering what came over him. Ricky barely cried at their wedding, not in front of Gyuvin at least, but he’s been a mess lately. Sometimes, he doesn’t even know who he is.
Thankfully, the familiar taste of the creamy tea has his appetite roaring after some small sips. It suddenly dawns on him that he’s starving, or the babies are starving and are sending signals up to him for carbs and liquids. He tries to recount what he ate today as he watches a man stop in front of the window to tie his shoe. The crust of Yujin’s fluffernutter sandwich, freshly squeezed orange juice and the beef bowl Gyuvin Doordashed him for lunch. He saved the other half for Gyuvin after yacking it out in the toilet. He had a strawberry cream protein bar and two spoons of Yujin’s cheddar broccoli soup to tide him over until now, which isn’t much at all.
Somtam comes out next. He takes a tentative sniff before crunching on a long papaya string. It’s the right amount of tanginess for him and reminds him of their honeymoon where they ordered it street side about a dozen times over the span of a week. Maybe his husband wasn’t evil after all. He has a gift for snooping out the most authentic grub spots. He misses Gyuvin though. It would have been better to make this a date night. They could have gotten a babysitter. They would’ve had so much to talk about. Names for the twins, for starters, or how to decorate the nursery. His mind keeps running, keeps thinking about his family at home. What did he used to think about pre-motherhood and pre-wifehood? It’s been years since his mind was focused on something other than his rowdy duo. Well, kind of true. He’s dreamt about them for years, decades even, this tender family of his.
As he waits for his Tom Yum and chicken satay to arrive, he uses the edge of his thumb to push his wedding ring up. Underneath lies a small and very crisp letter G. He runs his finger over the micro tattoo that Gyuvin gave him after getting engaged. Ricky used to think he would end up alone. He wouldn’t call it a fear but he was worried that he would never find the person that would be able to love him the way he needed to be loved. At some point he was so sure he was fated to life a lonely life that he told everyone he knew that he preferred it that way. He would eat alone, read alone on subways, study alone in libraries and hole away in his flat for the weekends unless baited out by Xiaoting and his cousin for their tea sessions. It’s comical to think about how different life was while he was still finding his footing in the world, how unsure his future seemed at the time.
Sipping down the sunset liquid, he chuckles to himself. Thinking about his younger self makes him laugh. What was he worrying about? Why did he spend so much of his twenties anxious about what was waiting for him? In retrospect, he wishes he didn’t stress so much. If he could go back to the Ricky in grad school he would tell him to breathe and to relax. Everything would work out in his favor as long as he let go of that terrorizing grip he had on his life. For things to flow, he had to stop forcing it.
Ricky used to think he was running out of time. He used to think the sand was falling to the other side before he could get anything done and before he could get the chance to achieve anything worth mentioning. He felt like he was just one person standing in the middle of a busy street, waiting for something to strike him into action or into a miracle. He used to think he was wishing his life away, and he was sure others did too. After becoming a wife, and then a mom, Ricky realized that there’s so much more time than he originally thought. Every day with Yujin is long and dreamlike. Every minute feels like it’s being stretched when he thinks about how much longer he has to carry the twins for. Every second without his husband feels torturous.
Dinner feels so different when he doesn’t have to feed another mouth. Every time he looks down at his plate he has the urge to cut the chicken into tinier pieces for Yujin, and he almost slipped and asked the waitress for a smaller bowl for him even though his baby was nowhere to be seen. It’s just him and his three plates, just Ricky and his food and the sounds of other people talking about their day and their gripes about the world. Nobody is even paying attention to him and when he realizes that, he feels so much more at home.
While it would have been nice to come with Hao, he does actually think more about himself. He thinks about the new children’s book he’s working on and his aspirations. He thinks about his art and the next mural he’s planning to paint on Yujin’s empty bedroom wall. Ricky thinks about his mark in the world and how there’s a lot to be proud of even if they seem insignificant at times. He thinks about his mom and how she must feel now with an empty nest.
What could she be doing right now? The last time he called her she was playing mahjong with his aunt and uncle. They were betting real money and she bragged about winning the pool of fifty bucks even though she spends that in a single minute at the local bakery. It’s a pride thing, it always is; winning and overcoming despite all odds, rooting for the underdog. In a way, she was an underdog herself. She raised him on all fours like a fierce beast. Even though she had fire for breath, Ricky can now say it was all meant to keep him warm. If there’s anything motherhood has given him, it’s perspective.
He spent a lot of time hating his mother but he only has one.
He only has one mother that calls him whenever she sees a daunting news article about the incoming recession and the doom posts about fake eggs being manufactured from Facebook. He only has one mother that sends him souvenirs from her business trips even though they live one vast sea away from each other. He only has one mother he calls when Yujin is deep in a fever and he can’t get him to stop crying, not unless his mother is singing the Moon Represents My Heart through the speaker.
Thinking about his mother has him fishing out the pendant of his necklace from his blouse. He rolls the jade between his fingers the same way his child does when he needs something tactical to help him sleep. Ricky wonders if his mother identifies herself as a mom first, or by her profession now that he’s gone. He wonders if him being gone still classifies her as a mother. Does the absence of him make her herself now? Or her secondary title? For Ricky, she’s just Mama, but she’s so much more than that. He’d like to think he is, too.
What does he know about his mother? She likes lottery tickets. She likes the free gifts that come with her big purchases at the department stores. She likes wearing heels and pantsuits and likes having her hair blonde just like he does. She likes getting her fortune read. She likes being a business woman and she says she likes that she can say her son is taken care of. Whenever prodded for more information all she tells him is that it’s every mother’s dream to make sure their child has an easy life.
But was this always her dream? Was being a mother even part of her original plan? Did she like it, did she hate it? When she was a teenager what did she think about? What did her daydreams consist of? When he looks back at photo albums of her posing next to fruit trees in California and sitting curtly in front of the Eiffel Tower and the golden temple statues in Thailand, he can’t help but wonder what she desired the most. Surely it wasn’t just this.
But, maybe. Yujin comes to mind. When a younger Ricky would prod her to open up more about what she was like when she was eighteen and twenty and thirty, she would wave him off. Ricky accused her of being too private. He told her they don’t deserve to call each other family if they can’t do something as simple as communicating. He wanted to get to know her with the small hope that maybe she would want to get to know him as well. They got into a blowout fight, one so silent and so dark that it was blue everywhere. That’s how they get angry in their household; they grow quiet and icy. Ricky describes it as a flame that burns orange and fades to the color of the depths of the ocean when it’s at its hottest. When complaining about their wordless stand-off to Hao the weekend after, his cousin bit his lip and blew on his tea quietly before saying “she used to tell me that her real life began once she had you.”
Ricky feels a pang of shame hit him as he thinks back to it. They never apologized, but by the grace of God they both peeled and cut a plate of apples and called a truce without mentioning it ever again. She used to tell Ricky that he would understand more when he became a mother and he used to turn his nose up at that, but he truly believes he understands now. It’s possible that she didn’t have anything to tell him, or felt like there was nothing notable about her time before she became a parent to share her younger years with him. Just like his mother, his real life began once he got married and it wasn’t long until he was pregnant with his first child. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
When Ricky was discharged from the hospital, his mother stayed with them in their home in Catskills for a month. Without being asked, she filled their detached freezer with Gyuvin’s favorite dumplings and ready-to-boil soup filled with bone broth and tendons for extra collagen. She didn’t nag and she didn’t bother them or push her way into their life. She was there for support during the nights when the both of them were too tired to open their eyes and to be the brains for their meals. They might have starved without her, to be honest. She was a different person from what he remembered from his childhood. After years of characterizing his mother as extremely distant yet overbearing, it all came as a shock to him. He had no idea she could act like that. Ricky had no idea his mother could be normal. A normal person standing on two feet, and not a monster prowling around him with snarled teeth waiting to say I told you so.
One day, in the middle of coaching Ricky how to breastfeed Yujin after having trouble latching, she called him beautiful. It was so light and so low that Ricky thought he imagined it, but then she looked him in the eyes and said it again. Not to Yujin but to Ricky. Ricky, in his sweaty, fatigued and run-down milk-white glory. He remembers wanting to say it back to her, to remind her that what she’s staring at is a reflection of herself, but he was so tongue-tied that all he could do was stare down at Yujin and his suckling mouth. They talked about the weather after that and how the flowers seemed to be in full bloom. She said his cherry tree would get a lot of fruit that year. When she flew home to Shanghai the next week, Ricky sobbed himself sick in the bathtub and Gyuvin had to fish him out with a towel once he was red in the face with grief.
“I just want you to be happy, Quanrui,” she had said once she was adequately hidden in their hug. When patting his back, her hand was cold and the airport was loud and she was so unbelievably small. “This is all I have ever wanted for you.” Pulling out of his embrace, she laid both hands over his powdered cheeks and gazed into the windows of his soul like she wanted to sear this sudden moment of bravery into her mind. “Happiness,” she whispered. His mother nodded her head at him until he mirrored her with a shaky bob of his own. “Okay? Happiness.”
By his second chicken skewer he’s awfully full and the twins feel heavy inside of him. He leans back in the chair and stares out the window absently, watching the rain drops pull down from the top of the glass. The stormy weather makes everything look much darker and cinematic, like the perfect backdrop for Ricky’s inner musings.
He orders mango sticky rice to go and an extra Thai tea for Gyuvin to end the night. When he enters the Uber he has the bright idea of opening up the baby monitor app for his cousin’s set up. Hao and Hanbin had their baby girl just five months ago and the Kim family has been over their house multiple times to the point where Hao gave them the login to their video system while babysitting. Sometimes, when Ricky is anxious about the twins and forgets what it’s like having a baby baby, he watches Haeun sleep her days away in her pink crib. Tonight is the same, and Ricky is overwhelmed by the sight of her little body curled up into itself like she’s still inside of Hao. He rubs his own belly and wonders if they’re cramped in there. He pulls his headphones over his ears and listens to her steady breathing. He should ask his husband to rig up their baby monitor again in Yujin’s room. There’s nothing better than knowing his family is sleeping well.
When he gets out of his Uber, Gyuvin is waiting for him at the end of their driveway with one of his signature smiles. It was a good idea, wasn’t it? He seems to say with his glowing gaze. What did I tell you?
Ricky walks up to their house slowly, close to a shy waddle as he feels his husband’s eyes on him. It’s dark aside from the street lights illuminating his body and Gyuvin comes down to meet him halfway. He kisses Ricky on the forehead first, lips to skin and his big hand cradling the back of his wife’s head. They stand there together underneath the moonlight in silence before Gyuvin brings his arms around Ricky and holds him. Ricky allows himself to be rag dolled into a hug with his hands hanging down by his sides, both of them filled with bags of food.
It smells like rain and soil and cold air outside and Ricky breathes it in as he’s crushed against Gyuvin’s chest. When he peers down, he sees that the man’s socks are soaked through and his slides are wet and watery. He thinks about how long his husband must have been waiting for him outside, how Gyuvin probably watched the little car icon on the Uber app inch closer and closer to their street in anticipation of seeing him. His heart feels as full as his stomach and he wants to cry but he sucks it in until his jaw aches at the hinges.
Ricky stares at Gyuvin as he eats through the leftovers in the box. He’s such a hungry alpha, always tearing through things. Ricky leans his cheek into his palm and smiles. Back when Ricky only had inyeon to hold onto and they were nothing more than neighbors, Gyuvin ate up his entire freezer of dumplings. He’s always been a little starving for affection the same way Ricky has.
Gyuvin knows what is best for him, literally. He has vivid dreams about him, maybe even more vivid than Ricky’s own. He has always wanted the best for his wife and so he’s been given the sight to see what is best. He was the one that first saw the twins even though Yujin came as a total surprise to him. Gyuvin was able to see how healthy the pregnancy would be even though they worried endlessly if Ricky’s body would be able to withstand it. Fortunately, the omega is sturdier than he appears. In more ways than one.
“I was thinking it might be nice to start a journal or something for Yujin to look back on later,” Ricky shares with a shy, wormy smile.
He always gets nervous about telling Gyuvin his ideas. He doesn’t want to seem silly or self-important, but his husband’s big mouth gapes and he nods enthusiastically. “You could make it into a whole series. Call it Jini B. Jones,” Gyuvin brainstorms.
Ricky giggles and uses his fingers to pinch out a small ball of sticky rice, bringing the sticky goodness to his lips. “Baobao is not nearly as reckless as Junie B. Jones.”
“Jini Bao Jones,” Gyuvin continues, spiraling with titles. “Jiji the Menace. Curious Yujin. If You Gave a Bunny a Bao. Goodnight Tokki. The Tale of Yujin Rabb—“
He only stops when Ricky takes a piece of mango and shoves it in his mouth. “Enough. I’m being serious.”
The alpha chokes but he’s still supportive. “I think it’s a great idea, honey. He’ll really appreciate it.” Gyuvin reaches across the counter to cover Ricky’s clean hand with his own. “It’ll help you stay present.”
During the first year after his son’s birth, Ricky started seeing a therapist. Gyuvin thought it would be nice to have someone to talk to about the burdens of motherhood even if Ricky insisted he couldn’t get enough of it. Unknown to him, he was seen zoning out multiple times throughout the first few months, like he was somewhere else completely. It alarmed the alpha, to say the very least.
His therapist clocked him immediately for his very thin lines between reality and his “daydreams,” and they’ve been actively working on staying present. Ricky takes ten minutes to himself before waking Yujin up in the morning to say affirmations in the sun. He does this while eating a strawberry or a cup of his homemade granola and yogurt. He takes slow bites and takes it all in; this life, the wind dancing around his body, the way the warmth of the big fireball in the sky rains down on his skin. It helps to keep him conscious and to remind him of sweetness. His therapist sends him back to his family every other week with homework, tells him to write things in his journal that remind him of the world he is living in, and not all the ones he is not. His medication is to find little moments of peace in every hectic, but precious day.
Wanting to be nice after being sour, Ricky feeds his husband with his hand again but slower, mimicking the way he feeds himself in the morning. Everyone can benefit from mindfulness. He mutters a good boy when Gyuvin swallows, and keeps going, rubbing away an excess grain of rice from the man’s lip. “He can read all about our days together. He’ll be able to see me in a different way too, maybe. I can write down things we’ll both end up forgetting.”
Gyuvin glances at him once he registers the lilt in his tone. “Even if both of you forget, I’ll remember who you are.”
Ricky looks him in the face. “And who am I?”
One thing that’s for sure, Gyuvin would never betray him. In every life, he’s sure that his husband has been by his side through thick and thin. Even if he’s a little off, a little lost, he would be able to find his way back with just the man’s voice calling him by his name. “You’re Shen Quanrui.”
Ricky blinks before melting into a soft smile. He hasn’t heard his name be called with such tenderness in a long time. He tilts his head. “Not Kim Ricky?”
Gyuvin’s scent thickens into a heady mint and Ricky feels himself lulled into it. He knows the alpha is trying to get him to breathe and calm down, but he fights it by clenching his fingers into his fist and avoiding his worried gaze. “You’re more than what you mean to us, Rui. You know that.”
“I do,” Ricky replies obediently even if he doesn’t one hundred percent believe it.
Ricky used to think he was the safest when he was alone. Nobody would be able to touch him and if he didn’t let anyone in then he could stay as he is forever. He didn’t want to be changed. He was afraid of losing himself like he swore his mother had during her time raising him. She was a wife once, then she wasn’t. Sometimes she felt like a mom, but Ricky thinks Gyuvin is trying to tell him that no matter what she did or didn’t do, she still is, but being a mother isn’t all of it. Whether he realizes it or not, everything can coexist in this magical plane of the universe.
He spent years working hard to try and gain some sense of validity. Ricky was the type of person to attach meaning to medals during tennis matches and being an honor roll student. It was part of being worth looking at, and worth mentioning. More than anything, he wanted to feel like he had a right to be here just like everyone else and he was convinced he needed to justify his existence as a whole through academia, through his skills, his knowledge, and what he could offer to others. There’s more to it, obviously. There’s always more to it.
Gyuvin makes it around their kitchen island in the short time Ricky is whirled into the tornado of his own thoughts. He grabs both of his slim wrists in his big hands and strokes over his pulse. “Before you’re a mother, you’re you. Nothing can take that from you, not our kids and not me.”
Ricky doesn’t know if he’s breathing anymore but the steady thumping of his heart in his ears is enough to settle it. He feels Gyuvin guide his hand to his chest and he feels his heartbeat match the rhythm of his own. Gyuvin is so endearing it makes everything around him hurt. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll make it happen. Just tell me. If there’s ever anything that you want to try, I’ll be with you every step of the way. You can do whatever you want, okay? This is your life that you’re living.”
Something inside of Ricky tells him this is a pivotal moment to remember. Later on, he will transcribe the man’s words from his memory into his diary and recite his favorite parts back to himself in the morning, but for right now he’s in the thick of it. He watches the alpha’s lips move and feels every single word cloak over him like a blanket. Ricky can almost see himself from a bird’s eye view. He sees his soul slip back into his body, the same one Gyuvin is holding down with his trustworthy grip.
“Don’t forget who you are. You’re Shen Quanrui,” Gyuvin reminds him. His presence is enough to bring Ricky down from the highest clouds. “I won’t let you lose your spark. I won’t let you forget it.”
If this isn’t enough to ground Ricky, deep inside of him their baby kicks for the first time. He’s jolted into his life, into his miracle once more with a feathered gasp. He doesn’t realize his husband is crying until he sees the droplets bleed into his shirt and over his belly. Funnily enough, Gyuvin isn’t looking at their babies or his swollen tummy, but at him. With only the light from the stove to cast shadows over his husband’s face, he can see right through him, into the center of him where Ricky’s love preens happily like a cat meowing through a long stretch. In the middle of their love-filled kitchen, everything he’s ever dreamed of has found him. Now, it’s up to him to live it.